


Living with Vegeta

by Raindrenchedstories



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Mini Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23490247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raindrenchedstories/pseuds/Raindrenchedstories
Summary: A short idea that hit me before bed. I decided to share. I might add other sillies later of various lengths.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 48
Kudos: 82





	1. Silent steps, flying papers

**Author's Note:**

> Set two days after returning from Namek.

She'd only recently asked her guest to live with her. Just two days ago really. In that time she'd seen him a total of four times. The day he arrived, in which she'd had to explain a few things, like how the shower worked. Two meals where he'd awkwardly sat, watching her and her family eat. Absorbing the local table manners then repeating them. Though he seamed surprised at the sheer amount of food he was freely given.

Other than that, he may as well not even live there. The Saiyan left no trace of his existence. Which made it all the more surprising when he suddenly rounded the corner. Bulma had been halfway through her first cup of coffee of the hour, and two thirds of the way through a report when she'd met him. Like a grim apparition he appeared, arms folded and in deep thought. Just his sudden existence in the room shot her heart rate to the roof. He'd made no sound. "SON OF A BITCH!"

Coffee and papers flung over both of the woman's shoulders. Vegeta started. Oh he'd sensed her, scented her, but he'd not expected her to scream in his face. "What is wrong with you woman?"

"LEARN TO SHUFFLE YOUR DAMN FEET!" With that, Bulma gathered her belongings, called a cleaning bot, and stormed off. Leaving her house guest confused. She made a mental note to start checking the security cams for sneaky mother fuckers before traversing her home.


	2. Cultural exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aliens don't always carry human like traits.

Vegeta had been showing his face a little more often. Allowing Bulma's scientific mind to analyze some of the differences between Saiyans and humans. One of which was on modest display as her guest entered the kitchen. Contrary to what her friends thought, Vegeta was a surprisingly polite house guest. If not aloof. Asside from a strange habit of watching both her and her parents on his off time. So when the prince was attacked by a morning yawn, he managed to cover his maw to the best of his ability. Allowing only enough time for Bulma to spot some surprisingly large incisors.

  
He mumbled a quiet 'excuse me' as he rummaged through the fridge. She could only release a small sound of surprise. She hadn't noticed the difference before. Which was odd. Goku was just as Saiyan and he never had fangs. Without thinking she ended up blurting out her mind.

"Do all of you have such large teeth?" She instantly clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. That was-"

  
"It depends on genetics. Much like how not all humans have blue hair. They're usually more prominent in males." He answered without thinking. Bulma sat back, watching as Vegeta piled large amounts of food on the table. He gave her a glance. "What?"

  
"I just wasn't expecting you to answer so easily. I mean, it's kind of a weird thing to ask." Bulma sheepishly returned to her coffee.

  
Vegeta just shrugged. "You encounter many races in space. It's natural to be curious about the people around you. In fact, I had a few wonderings about earthlings." He leaned forward. To this, Bulma perked up gesturing for him to continue. There was no way she was going to pass up a chance to learn about saiyans, space, or any of it really.

  
He nodded before continuing. "You people seam to change your scent daily. Is that a technique?" He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. Scrutenizing her for any kind of lie.

  
"Change our scent?" Bulmas eyes widened. Before it struck her. "I mean, we wear perfumes or colognes, for men, is that what you mean?" She went for another sip of coffee, and found her cup lacking. Grimacing, she got up to refill her cup and return to the conversation at hand. This was too interesting of an exchange.

  
"I'm not sure. You people tend to smell like different flowers or chemicals. Confusingly, your mother is the one who smells the most like chemicals, despite her tendency to garden, and you smell more like flowers." His brow furrowed before he glanced up at her. That was another thing, Vegeta never stared her, or anyone in her household in the eyes. Never made direct eye contact. Interestingly, he always turned his head away to side eye them. This time he was more staring at her neck line than her eyes. Thankfully not oggling her chest. Eventually he just settled for tucking into his meal.

  
"Yeah. That's the perfume then. Humans don't like the smell of sweat or dirt, and some of the stuff I work with really stinks. So in my case, I tend toward milder scents. I mean I work with chemicals all day, why would I want to smell like them?" She laughed, and to her surprise, Vegeta chuckled along. "So, anything else burning in your mind? Or may I ask you another question?"

  
He glanced up briefly, then nodded once. "Ask."

  
"Okay... Why do you never make eye contact?" This caught him off guard enough to pause mid bite. It seamed to take him a minute to process the question as he eyed her warily. Bulma felt her chest clench anxiously. "Oh. If it's personal don't worry. It's just. Humans make eye contact to show we're paying attention to the people we're talking to. And I never see you do it."

  
This seamed to put him at ease, in fact he almost looked relieved to hear it. "I was wondering about that. A saiyan only makes eye contact when they are challenging. Otherwise, it is considered polite to do otherwise. You never challenge the people you live with. At least in the home." He returned to his meal contentedly.

Until Bulma burst out laughing."Oh Kami. So from your perspective, everybody's picking a fight with each other?" She tried to contain her mirth, she really did.

With a huff, Vegeta nodded. "Imagine my confusion when you and your mother have a casual conversation over dinner." He smirked.

  
"Okay. I understand why we never saw you at the table for a while. I'd want to eat in peace too. But that doesn't explain one thing. Why do you watch us without ever interacting? Like when we're all hanging out in the garden?" She leaned forward, interested.  
Vegeta leaned back and hummed. Searching for the right words. "I know nothing of human culture. It's easier to learn through observation. For example-" He raised his fork for a moment. "I didn't know how to use one of these, until I watched your father one morning. I don't feel like answering any more questions." He displayed his skill with the utensil almost immediately after.

  
"Oh! Sure." Bulma returned to her fresh coffee then paused. "Well. I do have one more for you." He growled at her. "Easy. It's about the GR. I just needed to know if you could end training a little earlier today. It needs some maintenance and I have an upgrade or two that will really put you to the test." She grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always find that if it comes to Saiyans, Vegeta is usually pretty free with talking about his people. I'd like to think that's from living with so many different races. So he's not really private about the cultural or biological stuff. Personal is another matter. He also expects the same openness back.  
> There's also a few scenes in the manga and anime of other aliens being pretty loose with species information, so maybe it's just not a big deal to talk about.


	3. A whole lotta culture shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking place just after Namek. I pick on Bulma often for this. But I could see Vegeta getting his head all muddled by these strange aliens he's living with. And everyone thought Goku was dead again for a while. I also HC that the Prince of all Saiyans is a closeted romantic.

It was late, the sun had set for the evening, and Vegeta finally felt the weight of the whole ordeal. Days without sleep, an unpleasantly interrupted nap, that felt like less than an hour. Dying. Needless to say, he needed to just pass out for a while. Somewhere safe. It was overridden only by his need for food. Which was immense. He'd been shown to a room he was told was his for the time being. And shown how to use the cleaning stall. Then left to his own devices. For once, no one hovered over his shoulder, no threat loomed around the corner. And the water for this 'shower' was pleasantly warm. The blue haired woman had set it for him before she left and he found it perfect.

Too perfect. He'd only encountered her briefly on Namek and she'd already made a pass at him. Perhaps humans were just that way. Though, by the actions of the surrounding company, she'd been bold. Perhaps she hadn't known him for the killer he was. That didn't add up however. It left only one option. She'd decided that the safest way to control him, was to seduce him. It was a shame. Saiyans sought companionship, sure. But rarely mates. Especially not with incubation pods. There was just no need. She didn't have to know that. As he stepped from his shower, and turned the nobs as he'd been shown to cease the water. He'd dried off, dressed, and recalled her directions to the kitchen. Where he'd been instructed to meet for 'dinner'.

Much to his surprise, the table was surrounded. But only by the humans and halfbreed child. The Namekians were gone. But that wasn't what caught his eye. It was the sheer amount of food available. Enough to feed five of himself and then some. He stood awkwardly in the doorway. Staring at the bemused humans. The overly friendly blond female spoke first. "Oh! Vegeta is it? I do hope you Saiyans have more of an appetite. I was told there'd be a whole planets worth of people and I thought they'd be hungry. But apparently not." 

"They're the same species mom. I'm pretty sure between he and Gohan, this'll be cleaned up in no time. Right?" The blue hair smiled at him. He had to start learning these people's names. Still, he gave a stiff nod, and set himself at the indicated chair. The blonde explained that the meal was 'mostly finger food' as she had no idea as to Namekian customs. Though he had no refference for what she'd meant. Instead, he followed example. At first taking only what he saw the Blue take. As she was unlikely to poison herself. Then he branched out once he was aware the food was safe. Only taking small portions, and leaving plenty for the rest. Despite his complaining stomach. Gathered meals like this were strange to him. Asside from mess halls and cooking their kills by a fire, Saiyans mostly ate alone. So as to have all their kill to themselves.

The food was amazing. He'd only had better in the royal halls of Vegetasai. And even then, he debated on how much that was nostalgia. But oddly, the humans didn't take all that much. Gohan, the boy, ate about as well as any saiyan cub. But even he took only minuscule portions. In fact. Earthlings were down right dainty eaters. A trait considered almost cute among his people. One by one the humans pushed their plates away. Finished eating. And he too, mimicked them. Feeling that the meal was done. Though he'd still not had his fill, he had no intention of upsetting his hosts.

Until. "Um Mister Vegeta?" He glanced at the small child, sheepishly glancing up from his still full plate. "Are you sure you've had enough. I didn't see you eat anything on Namek and... We could have been there for days." Gohan shrunk down. His mother snapped her attention to the lad. Piling more food onto his plate out of sheer maternal instinct. An act Vegeta found intimate. Sharing food was quite a significant sign of affection. Not uncommon between parent and child. In fact it was a little refreshing to see. Outside of family, sharing food was outright romantic. So he wasn't at all surprised when the man claiming to be the blonde's mate set a small discus of something on her plate claiming it was "desert". What ever that was.

The blonde womans jaw dropped. "Days?! Oh don't you sit by on our account Vegeta dear. Eat your fill!" She began serving food onto the prince's plate. Piles of it. Near mountains. Much to his shock. In his bewilderment, he allowed himself to stare. His jaw dropped. "Oh you must have been starving! poor dear." This woman. Who had a mate. And was twice his own age. Was directly dropping food onto his plate. Perhaps human women were just flirty all the time. He had to remind himself he was on another planet. 

"Mom. Maybe wait until he responds to the question?" The blonde glanced at the blue haired woman. Making direct eye contact. Vegeta felt discomfort tingle up his spine. In an effort to defuse the situation. He spoke up.

"It's fine. I hadn't eaten." He tucked into the meal politely, though he'd have to watch the people around him a little closer. As it turned out, offering food was more common than he'd thought. Humans with no prior indication at any sort of chemistry offered one another plates of food. At one point, Krillin had offered Vegeta a serving of something called "Potatoes" which he accepted. So food was just a communal event.

As the meal wound to a close, and Vegeta had sampled something called 'cookies' for desert, some form of wine had been passed around. Given to everyone but the child, who was given some form of juice instead. A shame, Vegeta remembered being quite fond of wine as a boy. But Gohan was deemed 'too young'. Earth tradition, he assumed. The blue haired woman raise her glass, a gesture repeated by the others. "To Goku. Once again. We wouldn't be here with out him." Ah, so the meal had been commemorative. In honor of a fallen warrior. 

The table tapped their glasses together, Something Vegeta mimicked as well. Quietly muttering "To Kakarot." Gohan caught this, and Vegeta made a point to tap his glass against the lad's twice. Showing due respect to the child of the man who killed Frieza, once and for all. "He was a proud Saiyan warrior. For all his treachery." He nodded. Before mimicking the collective and taking a sip of his drink, the boy following suit. Both well aware of the odd looks they received. The drinking went well into the night. Long past when the child and his mother left for their home.

At long last, a nearly unconscious Vegeta staggered his way into his chamber. Fuzzily recalling where the woman said the 'towels' were, he piled them into what he thought was his sleeping pod. And promptly passed out for the evening. Not even bothering to strip for the evening. For the first time in a long time, his hunger was fully satiated, and he was semi comfortable, though earths sleeping pods were abysmally firm. He was out within minutes.

The morning found a quiet sound against his door. He didn't stir. Then another. Until someone in the bigger room outside his sleeping chamber called. "Vegeta? Are you up?"

"MMFH." Was the most intelligible response he could give. His head hurt. His body was stiff. He'd have to ask about padding the pod properly. "I am."

"Oh! Sorry. I didn't realize you were in there. I'll give-"

"It's fine. You may enter." The blue haired woman peeked in.

Of all the places and conditions Bulma expected to find the Saiyan prince, hung over in the bath tub was not one of them. "Oh boy. Rough night?"

"Your sleeping pods need improvement. Do humans have no spine?" He snarked, sliding halfway down his progress. As one of the towels padding the tub slipped.

Bulma gave pause. "Sleeping pods? Vegeta. That's the bath tub. You fill it with water and lay in it."

"Why?" Slowly the prince managed to stagger to his feet, and out of the tub.

"To relieve sore muscles. Relax a little. Take a shower before you do though. Otherwise it's just going to be Saiyan soup in there. Wait. Did you honestly opt for that over the bed?" She stared at him. Confused.

He gave her a flat glare, without much heart in it. "Apparently." He grumbled. Though the concept of a bath was starting to sound appealing. Alleviate sore muscles? Why hadn't that idea caught on back home? Probably the lack of available water.

"Okay. Would you like me to show you the bed, and give you another hour to sleep?" She approached him as she would a wild animal. Or someone who just found themselves in the exact situation he had. He only nodded. Mumbling something about trying this bath idea later. Make the tub fix it's own damage.

Were his head not trying to kill him, and his mind a little more clear, he'd have felt childish. Needing this woman to explain how to sleep to him. Instead, he weakly thanked her, then dismissed her from his quarters. Dropping face first into the pillows. And OH were they heavenly soft. He could melt into this human sleeping arrangement. In fact, he would. For an hour. Then he'd devour anything edible and go right back to sleep. Someone pulled the blankets over him, then left the room quietly.

Well down the hall, Bulma finally let loose and laugh. Well out of ear shot, she hoped. Out of all the deadly bluster the Saiyan prince had. He was still, at the end of the day, a man.


	4. Saiyans vs affection

It was mid afternoon as Vegeta stepped down into the house. Using the front door for once. As he passed the living room he'd heard something of a giggle from the Briefs matriarch. If Saiyans have one fault, it's their curiosity. In the right circumstance, this can be used to learn new techniques, so it was never something Vegeta thought to quell. Thus, without thinking, he glanced into the living room, and found himself face to face with something... intimate. Mrs Briefs lay completely limp against her husbands protective side, one of his arms draped over her, as he was resting behind her. Both displaying absolute trust in one another.

Normally any Saiyan would be offended. As such open affection was never displayed in common rooms. That was sensitive. More than the act of copulation it's self. However, they had no reason to think they were no longer in private. He'd walked in on them. In a home they call their own, during a time all residence but themselves were supposed to be away. More over, vaguely recalled Bulma's mother asking her mate for just a spare moment of his time. As he'd been working himself 'to the bone' by her terms. The man had mentioned that he'd been working on some new project for his company. Scientist generally would spend time locked in their labs for days, as any artist would on their work. It was a wonder they ever saw one another at all. Quietly, Vegeta crept into the kitchen, deciding not to interrupt what might be a rare moment between the elder Briefs. It wasn't his place.

He quietly prepared something to eat, and sat at the kitchen table. Musing to himself. When was the last time he saw something so... soft? Probably during some purge. He could remember many a family huddled together in their last moments. Still, that was different. They expected to die. There was no need to hide their affections, no enemy to exploit their weaknesses. Just oblivion awaited them. He would often allow them just a moment to bask before ending those few. He'd never actually witnessed such tenderness outside of those events.

He could remember his time as a teenager, alone kicked back in his pod, awaiting orders, or traveling between planets. Before sleep took him. When his mind had a chance to wander to something outside of training and becoming stronger. Outside of the horrors he'd witnessed on the regular. When he would... day dream. Thinking back on it, his favorite fantasies had to do with just sharing quiet moments between battle with someone. Someone other than his troupe. In those fantasies he would completely let his guard down to his dream person. Usually some made up visage he'd conjure. Sometimes saiyan, if he was feeling wistful. Sometimes something else. Always someone who could appreciate the body language and deep seated behavior behind his actions. Who knew just how much he was showing them.

It was a surprise when the glass door to the kitchen opened. His head shot up to find the woman storming through. She was about to greet him when he placed a finger to his lips. What he discovered was the human sign for silence. She tensed, and he motioned for her to come closer so he could inform her. She sat next to him. "Your parents are... engaged in something at the moment. In the living room. They don't seam to have expected us indoors yet." He hissed softly to her. Appropriately, her cheeks flushed red. She leaned in far too close for his comfort to whisper to him.

"Shit. Sorry you had to see that." He shrugged it off. "How about we slip out the glass door. Help me to the upper floors?" She pleaded. The prince readily agreed, moving to join her back outside. She put great effort into closing it silently before turning to him. Without much prompting, he lifted her by the middle, and flew them both to her balcony.

She let off a sigh. "Thanks Vegeta. I swear I'm just going to install a ladder out here."

"That would render your security pointless. If you're as famous as you say, your enemies would just waltz right into your sleeping chamber." He glared over the railing at some invisible interloper. Much to his surprise the woman laughed outright.

She waved him inside, and though he had his hesitations, he followed. "You think I haven't thought of that? Let's face it, if someone wants at me, the balcony is the first thing they think of. And let's face it. Most of my enemies so far have been at least able to jump up. I have a security system in my room." She grinned.

To this, he scoffed. "A security system? Tell me, would it detour anyone trained in ki manipulation?" He huffed. To this, Bulma just beamed brighter. Like she had cornered him in some great game. He shrunk into himself a bit.

"I dunno. Do you still find the GR challenging?" She teased. The meaning behind her words took little time to sink in, and the Saiyan prince found himself smirking with her. She'd been using his regimes as a security measure for her own home. Using his level to set the bar. Somehow, that flattered him. It flattered him greatly.

"I didn't agree to be your experiment." He chuckled.

"Why else do you think you're able to live here rent free? You've also helped me design a few new submarines able to withstand a higher crush depth. Think of it as earning your keep." She folded her arms in a fashion very similar to hers, briefly staring him in the eyes before remembering herself. Her gaze wandered respectfully to his left cheek, alleviating the pressure from the conversation. "What did you walk in on anyways?" She asked suddenly.

Vegeta felt himself blush at the change in topic. "Why do you want to know?" He spat.

"So I know just how hard I need to set the bots for you to burn the memory out of your brain." There was little humor to her voice, in fact she seamed rightfully disgusted. "And what disinfectants the cleaner bots need before we even set foot in that room again."

He gave a sigh. Silently thankful for her mercy. However. "Intimacy does not always have to be sexual woman. They were simply embracing. No need for the heavy cleaners." Again he found himself almost envious.

"Wait. They were just cuddling?" He nodded in response and Bulma burst into laughter. "Oh my Kami. Vegeta! The way you said it I thought you walked in on something MUCH worse."

The prince flushed. "It's just as bad!" He argued. "Or just as private at least. I was simply showing due respect. AS YOU-" He cut himself off, scoffing. "Perhaps it means less to a human." With that he turned to leave.

Bulmas hand rested gently on his shoulder, sending a shock wave trough his muscles. Her light touch caught him off guard. It was the contact family had with one another, the gentleness a mother would use on an unwell cub. Or a close friend would show during grooming circles. Come to think of it, he was a part of the house. Perhaps he'd earned that sort of care. Never the less, he stopped his movements and waited. Giving her permission to continue. She withdrew her hand and spoke. "Vegeta. Does physical contact mean more to you? Outside of fighting, I mean."

So it was a cultural situation. He huffed. It was tiresome to explain himself. But he found it easier, with this woman. She saw his talk as more of a learning experience than a challenge. Even going so far as to respect some of his people's traditions. "Yes. Contact outside of necessity is reserved for companions. Letting your guard down completely, what you call 'cuddling' I believe, is the ultimate display of trust. Reserved for mates." That was all he needed to say, in his opinion.

Alas Bulma felt the need to press the issue. "Oh. So me putting my hand on you just now-"

"Is fine. We share a home. Housemates or squads would often touch in similar ways. Though usually firmer. That kind of tenderness is reserved for grooming. It's not as though you tried to pet my tail." He huffed. There was no dodging this. "I assume it's common among humans, however."

Bulma had motioned for him to join her in sitting. Motioning to a chair beside her bed. Right in front of a cluttered work desk. Blueprints of all sorts were on full display. Vegeta recognized one as a recent invention he'd found in her lab. "Well. Yes and no. I wouldn't grab a stranger like that. Wait... Grooming? Do Saiyans-"

"Yes. Communal grooming was common among my people. It takes a while to tame a Saiyan mane alone. If you ever had the chance to look at Raditz, you'd have known why." He smirked. It wasn't overly personal. Thus easy to talk about. And he found that Bulma actually gained some amusement out of it. It was easy to joke with her.

She waved a hand. "Okay. I have a new respect for you guys now. I can't even get a brush through Yamcha's hair when it's grown out. I could imagine working on Raditz." She laughed. "Still, you keep yourself pretty well put together."

"The weakling? He doesn't even live here. Are you both of the same squad or are humans just free about such things?" He frowned. If humans took part in communal grooming as well, then why the hell had no one offered? He hadn't because he assumed it was taboo.

Bulma hummed. "I guess for humans, grooming is like a lesser form of cuddling to Saiyans. It's a trust thing. For example, for your kids it's fine. For a close friend, it's fine. Even between couples. Er- mates. But there has to be a bond there." She shrugged. Something flashed past her eyes. "Though humans do have professionals take a day to pamper them too. So like, I had my hair done by a professional." She amended.

Vegeta nodded in understanding. To his surprise she continued. "Had I known it was so normal for you guys I would have offered. Sorry to have excluded you, Vegeta." She winced. Forgetting the significance of eye contact. Still, he allowed it, holding her eyes a moment before breaking it.

"It's fine. If I understand correctly, you do not have such a bond with me. Though that still leaves me wondering. What is your bond with the weakling?" He huffed. The two only seamed to fight. Did humans groom their most hated as well. He shuddered at the thought of even touching Frieza in such a trusting manner.

Bulma sighed. Shaking her head. "Um. That's not easy to explain. He's my boyfriend. Sometimes. We're on an off again. A lot."

"Boyfriend?" He tilted his head, showing clear confusion.

Bulma groaned. Covering her face with her hands. "Yeah. It's... It's a step before marriage."

"Marriage?" He was lost now.

With a long sigh, Bulma leaned fully back, and fell on the bed, belly up. It was a comfort to know she no longer thought of him as a threat. The prince himself still had yet to actually lay down openly near any of the briefs. Asside from the incident with the bathtub. He couldn't even remember who explained the concept of a bed to him. He had his suspicions, but human whine had been surprisingly potent. No wonder they hadn't shared with the cub.

"Okay so by your understanding my parents are mates. Yes?" She asked. Vegeta hummed affirmative. "Okay. We call that Married here. The man is the husband, the woman is the wife. Yamcha and I are in a step before that. The man in that situation is called the boyfriend. The woman the Girlfriend."

"Ah. So he's courting you. Thus there is a bond." He nodded in understanding.

"There! Yes. That's exactly it." She waggled a finger at him. "I think you're the fist person I've met who gets it from the first explanation." Bulma's phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced at it. Then turned quite an interesting shade of pink. "so... We have two options. We can either order pizza and have it brought to the GR. Or... We could go get dinner elsewhere. Mom's not cooking tonight."

He was about to ask why, before he caught on to the implications. "I haven't had Pizza yet." He commented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again. I HC that Vegeta is a closeted romantic. He wants intimacy and some kind of connection. But he doesn't express it. Much of that is to do with culture and upbringing.


	5. Pets

Bulma wasn't expecting to find Vegeta hovering in the kitchen. But she wasn't expecting a lot about living with this alien. He seamed almost paranoid about something, glaring at the floor. When he caught sight of her slippers, Bulma was suddenly hoisted into the air and sat firmly on the fridge. "Don't get down." He ordered. She found herself blinking in confusion.

"Did you see a rat?" She glanced around, trying to spot this enemy Vegeta was hunting for.

"I don't know what that is." He deadpanned. "The parasite your father has seams to have shaken loose. It's looking for a new host. It hid somewhere at the sight of me." He snarled. Waiting, just listening. Nothing. He could smell it, but it was too small for him to bother sensing. So long as he kept the creature at bay. Bulma's father seamed to have deteriorated rapidly due to this creatures existence, his body failed him much earlier than it had his mate. It wouldn't take much to kill the pest, but he had to keep Bulma, and any other resident away from it.

"Wait. You mean the little black thing that Dad carries around? Scratch?" She asked.

He smirked to her, sending a chill down her spine. "Yes, that. If that is what it is called. His Scratch has detached it's self finally, and I can end it. Consider this my appreciation for offering your home to me."

"Vegeta... Scratch isn't a parasite. He's just a cat- er. A pet. A companion animal?" She wasn't sure which word he'd respond to faster, and so found herself trying all of them in situations like these. Vegeta paused, slowly drifting to the floor. He offered to help her off the refrigerator and glanced around once more.

His searching seamed to change from malicious to curiosity. "A pet? You're wealthy enough to have one?" He was familiar with the concept after all. Though the thought of wealth first as opposed to companionship concerned Bulma. She opened one of the cupboards and pulled a small baggie of cat treats from it. Shaking them gently. Scratch flew from his hiding place in a flash. Meowing insistently at her feet, going so far as to try and climb her leg. Vegeta watched with great interest, folding his arms over his chest as he observed the pair.

"I mean, cats are kind of a common pet. It isn't so much about wealth. They're good at hunting mice and rats... Pest animals that get into food stores and other places you don't want them." She glanced up to make sure he was following her logic. What she found was a clever gleam of recognition. She smiled at this. "So they just common to have. Oh there are some specialty pets that only the rich have. But pets are not an exclusive thing. Did you ever have a pet Vegeta?"

He shook his head. "Saiyans had no use for them. Most species didn't. Pets were a sign of wealth, or a trophy." He deliberately avoided talking about Frieza constantly referring to HIM as a pet. Bulma frowned a little. Before gently taking the Saiyans hand. He wasn't always a fan of touch, but she recently found that she could guide him just a bit with it. So long as he didn't pull away. In this case, he allowed her to guide his hand down to the felines back. She showed him exactly the right spot to get the small cat purring up a storm.

"Well, them being so common here is a mixed bag. Humans evolved along side many of these animals. I already explained cats to you, but dogs were some of the first animals we tamed. They could do things we couldn't. So we allowed them to live with us in exchange for their assistance." Vegeta tilted his head at her explanation. Though his response was less than positive.

"So how is it a mixed bag?" He almost deliberately got her off the topic of the reasons behind pets.

With a huff, Bulma leaned against the fridge, watching as Saiyan and cat interacted. It was almost adorable seeing Vegeta respond to the animals prompts for more attention please. "Well, the point is there's plenty of people who have pets that shouldn't. They neglect or abandon them and it just burns me up inside." He paused, then glanced over his shoulder. Something unreadable in his expression. Bulma chose to continue. "My parents spend a lot of time rescuing and rehabilitating these animals. It's... A hobby of theirs. Taking sad little critters and rekindling life in them."

" _Sounds like someone else in this home._ " He scoffed. Bulma paused. Vegeta wasn't exactly shy about speaking. He was surprisingly chatty for such a grump. But never before, had she heard him speak anything but what he referred to as common.

She cleared her throat. "Um. Sorry? I didn't catch that." His ears lit up scarlet, rigidly, Vegeta shot to his feet.

"I didn't say anything. Not anything of worth." He spluttered. It was probably the first time she saw him truly flustered. Asside from teasing him when they initially returned to earth. Bulma raised her hands placatingly. Trying to calm him before he inevitably fled the room.

"Okay. It's fine. I just haven't heard you speak anything other than common. It was a surprise is all. Do you... Do you want to see more animals? Just so you don't try to blow up a dog or something?" To her surprise, he agreed quickly. So it led to her slowly leading him to the menagerie. He seamed to brace himself as she opened the door. Within, the animals were already in a romp of tug of war, or eating from automated feeders. Or just sleeping. But the moment that door opened, their attentions quickly turned to the pair.

Vegeta almost seamed wary as Bulma led him in, but soon relaxed little by little. As each animal politely came to greet him in their own way. Or outright ignored him. The two spent a fair amount of time just sitting and talking about which animal was what, and their function. Until Vegeta noticed one animal, a dog that simply sat on the fringes of the pack, watching them. "That one isn't as social with it's pack." he pointed to the animal, then nodded to the other dogs, happily playing once more.

"No. She isn't so social. Not yet at least. Daddy brought that one home a while ago. We just got her comfortable with the other animals, but she's still a little people shy. She'll probably watch us the whole time we're here. PTSD and all." Bulma sighed. "It's animals like her that spurred Daddy into this whole rescue."

"PTSD?" Vegeta turned to her.

"You know. When a bad thing happens and it just... haunts you for the rest of your life. Sometimes you get nightmares or mood swings. That thing. You've been in an army, you've probably-" She cut herself off. Shock taking over her expression. Vegeta probably had first hand experience with it. "Never mind."

"Oh. Battle shock." He leaned back. "Saiyans don't get that."

Bulma's head just snapped back to him at an alarming rate. "What? I don't believe that." She glared at him, being sure to look just at his neck. Oddly, Vegeta squirmed under that attention. Covering his exposed skin with his hand.

"It's true. Our people live for battle. We see things most would call horrible so often that it does not effect us. " He laughed. His face then turned cold. "We don't suffer battle shock. But we do suffer- well it's- There's no word for it in common." He threw his hands up in frustration.

To this, Bulma leaned in curiously. "um... Why not say it in your own language then? I mean. If you're alright with that." He seamed to ponder the idea for a second, thinking back on it. Before nodding slowly.

"We call it _deep loss_ it does not effect us the same as battle shock. But it can be as severe." He leaned back thinking to it. It was like a limb had freshly torn off, but it never quit. He could feel the phantom of where his tail had been, for example. But the wound closed, and though he had to re-learn to balance, Saiyans were well known for adjusting to such things. They took to prosthetics easily, in the event of a lost arm, and he was far from the first to lose his tail in battle. As shameful as the event had been. Taken by some coward. But that wasn't deep loss.

It healed, and the pain dulled. Deep loss never went away. It was a grief that never ended. He remembered some of what Nappa had gone through with such a condition. It was startling to hear a grown man screaming someone else's name in agony. Vegeta had lost a lot when his home was destroyed. His title, his status, his family... But he hadn't had anyone as close to him as Nappa had. It was partially why he never pursued it. He shook his head returning to staring back at the dog. "So how long will it take?"

"Hm? Oh for the dog? We don't know. She absolutely hates people." Bulma shrugged. "We're trying to get her to at least take food from us but... Well she has some pretty sharp teeth."

They left soon enough. And little by little Bulma found that Vegeta had been taking an hour out of each day from then to disappear... somewhere. She thought nothing of it. As far as Bulma was concerned, Vegeta was probably best doing his own thing. So long as he didn't kill anyone it was fine. It wasn't until she passed the menagerie and heard his bark of laughter that she even thought about his whereabouts. Peeking in, Bulma found herself staring down a strange sight. At some point, Vegeta had acquired a lazer pointer, and was driving a small herd of cats insane chasing it. But what caught Bulma off guard the most, was the very dog she'd thought was too afraid to handle, was laying on his lap. His arm casually draped over her, petting between her ears.

It was probably the first time she ever actually saw him smile. For real. She let him be. Allowing him this, at least. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, Dr. Brief's cat hardly ever leaves the man's shoulder. And yes. I HC that Saiyans can't actually suffer from PTSD. But the loss of a loved one can hurt for ages to come. It gets better, but it's more intense for a Saiyan than it would be for a human. Because if there's one thing I've noticed in DBZ it's that a Saiyans emotions are VERY intense.


	6. Hair care

It was late. Or early, depending on your internal clock. Bulma was working hard on her latest model of security bot, this one had a much sturdier carapace with a faster weapons system. For the most part, she took having a Saiyan around as a challenge. She wanted him to break this thing. Just so she could make a better one. It was a game. A challenge. One Vegeta was always happy to play. But in working so late, she often became accustomed to the natural sounds of the house. The cat stalking around at night. The quiet whirring of the cleaning bots in their night time tidy cycle. And the gentile hum of the many computers and analyzers in her lab.

So when she heard a quiet hiss of "dammit dammit DAMMIT!" sneaking it's way up the halls and past her door. She had to check it out. Peeking her head out, Bulma caught sight of Vegeta stalking up the hallway on silent feet. Near flying. Trying not to disturb the house, but aware he was in the noisier sections of the compound. Bulma cleared her throat, and he turned to her. He seamed a little surprised to see her up so late. But she waved him inside so they could speak. He shook his head and waved his hands outward by his hips.

'don't want to talk.' She gave a silent nod before ducking back in. Bulma had enough time to learn that if Vegeta wanted to talk, he would. But pressuring him would have unfavorable results. Much to her surprise though, he still entered her lab. Did he want company? She glanced up, and when he gave no direct eye contact or hostile language, she nodded. He was just looking for company. She closed the door behind him so he wouldn't have to remain so silent. He didn't want to speak, but it helped her to fill the silence a little. "Make yourself comfortable. The lab's sound proofed."

He nodded once, then found a place to sit. She ignored him for the most part, just working on her invention. A part of it sparked across her fingers. Creating a painful sting she all but ignored. Though she heard him suck in a quiet breath. She rubbed her thumb and finger together to soothe some of the sensation, then returned to her work. "I'm hoping to have this ready by tues- In four days." She muttered. Vegeta had yet to keep track of the names of the days. So it was just simpler to give him a time frame. She closed the paneling concealing the wires, and turned it on for a quick test. The machine sputtered, beeped once, aimed an unarmed weapon at her and coughed. It shut it's self down after that. Bulma sighed. "Maybe five."

He gave a hum of acknowledgement, and Bulma ran a hand through her hair. There was a quiet 'ah' then a huff. "What?" She eyed him warily. He simply pointed to her hand, and she brought it to her face. Ink black in who knew what from working on the machine. And she was willing to bet she just stained her lovely blue curls. "Well. Maybe I'll end up a raven beauty like you huh?" She smirked. Only to find her Saiyan guest flushed bright red at the statement. She fought back a giggle, and waved her hand in a placating manner. It was just a joke. 

Bulma wet a rag and began trying to work the grease out of her hair with a huff. Vegeta almost offered, but stopped himself. Humans only shared groomings when there was an established bond. It would be a step too far for him to do anything unbidden. Which annoyed the hell out of him because she was missing the smudge. It made him wonder just what he was missing out on when he washed his own hair. He grimaced at the thought. Much to his surprise, Bulma huffed. "Hey Vegeta?" He hummed his response. "I don't have a mirror. Think you could help?"

In Bulma's case, Vegeta had previously explained just how casual Saiyans were with something personal like that. So when he motioned her over, she wasn't at all surprised. If anything it was actually a bit easier to tolerate. If it weren't for the fact that he'd threatened her planet and temporarily killed her boyfriend, she figured she'd never have feared him. There was a side to Vegeta the others didn't get to see. The polite house guest side. Oh, he'd argue with her, he'd snark and snap. But in the end, this was the man who levitated in the hallways at night so as not to wake anyone. The man that took his time to learn a humans boundaries before acting, and explaining where his own were, if politely prompted. If he didn't want to, he wouldn't. And she came to accept and appreciate that.

Much of the time, she just treated Vegeta like he were a cat turned human. Things happened at his pace, and he screamed less. If it had to happen another way, she'd explain it before hand. Even if she had to be firm. She sat before him and handed him the damp rag. Slowly, Vegeta started working on the smudged locks. He grimaced as he worked. "This stuff is thick." He wasn't harsh or firm, just working the rag between each strand slowly. With some extra effort, it was removed. "But no match for anything I've faced before." He smirked.

Bulma was about to ask what was worse than grease and metal shavings mixed together, but quickly reminded herself of WHO she was talking to. She simply flashed a smile and shrugged. "Thanks. One of these days you're going to have to let me return the favor."

Well. It was an ass backwards grooming circle. Usually he'd make the offer instead of being asked, and she'd insist on him first. As a prince took priority. But he was a guest in an alien home. With an alien attempting to emulate something their own people didn't even do so casually. But the attempt was very much appreciated, and he let her know with a nod. With that Vegeta stood. "Let that dry before you sleep. But get sleep soon. It's become late enough to be early." He made a point to hover his way back to his room. As any polite member of the PTO did when people were trying to sleep. There wasn't much he'd keep from that life, but silent barracks rule was one he could respect.

He hadn't even known why he joined her in the first place. Perhaps he wished to have company, after yet another failure. It was fascinating to watch her work on her machinery, however. He could see the same determination and care he showed his training in her craftsmanship. But to watch it go from just raw material to an actual, functioning thing. It was a thing of beauty. She made it look so effortless too. Even if the damn thing didn't work in the end, it still was more progress than the hunk of scrap she'd been eyeing up just that morning before squirreling it away in her lab. Claiming it had 'potential'. If only his training worked so quickly.

He fount himself collapsing on the soft bed he'd been provided with after a hot shower. Taking in the strange, fresh scent of the 'sheets'. Mrs. Briefs called it spring breeze. It was supposed to emulate the air during one season on earth. Associated with the return of warmth, and the blooming of new plants. Not one trace of his own presence remained after each day. As the bots would claim and clean his sheets every morning once everyone had left their rooms. To a saiyan, the lack of your own scent could be disquieting. However, over time, Vegeta had associated it with sleep. He was out in minutes.

His dreams consisted less of battle these days. At least, less of random battle. He dreamed of acceding, of surpassing Kakarot. But on nights like this, he dreamed of quiet. The warm glow of the living room he was sat on the sofa, watching the red skies of earth. He could feel a slight tugging on his arm, but paid it no mind. He knew it was just routine maintenance. Just a tune up. When his father walked into the room, he started to straighten a bit. The man glanced at him, then at Bulma, slowly closing a panel on Vegeta's arm. "Well?" The King snapped.

Bulma glared at the man. "Well. WELL?! is that how you ask earth's greatest scientist If she accomplished the greatest achievement in our life time? Vegeta, Show him." And without much prompting, he illuminated. A golden hue taking over his body. He was perfect. Until some other glow illuminated the room, searing into his eyes and-

With a hiss, the Prince awoke. Covering his eyes. He made a point to dress for his training and fussed at his own hair before stumbling down the stairs for breakfast. Before he could make it however, he came nose to accusatory hairbrush with Bulma. "I'm repaying that favor now. Because you aren't going to see me for like... A week and a half." She nudged him back into his own room.

"And... Why is that?" He was prodded to sit down on a small chair he'd been provided with. In front of an unused desk. Logical thought took a back seat however, as she started to run her hands through his mane. Automatically, his eyes shut, and shoulders dropped. It wasn't even a conscious reaction. It was just Saiyan biology at work. He relaxed into her touch, unsure of why she was just stroking along the strands for now. Perhaps it was a human thing.

"That damn bot blew it's self up this morning and I'm not quitting on it." Bulma huffed. "I think the best thing to do is go with the grain here. If I'm doing something wrong, let me know. Saiyan hair is so different." She added as an after thought. He gave a slight nod in acknowledgement, and allowed her to work. Never did she bend it backward, never did she pull or move him uncomfortably, aside from asking him to tilt his head forward a bit. He was just lost in the sensation until something flickered past his mind. Did Bulma... Fail?

He pondered how to approach this before deciding to be blunt. "So you failed to reach the next level? With the machine I mean."

She sighed in exasperation. "I didn't fail shit. I just... Got impatient. Things like this take time. And I've got plenty yet. It's three years 'till the androids get here. That's plenty of time to push you harder towards transforming. And then some for you to hone it. If I do this right." He gasped and her hands stilled. "Sorry! Did I pull? Or do some kind of taboo?"

"No. It's just... You've been doing this. To aid my ascent? Why?" He almost turned to her, but paused. She continued to work.

"Well. yeah. Let's face it, we're all in this fight together. I might not be able to crush metal with my bare hands. But I can make things. If I had the schematics for those monsters, I'd just find a way to shut them down. But you guys wouldn't like that. So... I do what I can. In this case, that's helping you. Oh! Don't think I'm just using you though. After you go super saiyan, I'm sure you'll have plenty of your own goals you want to do. So... I guess this is just kind of-" She searched for the words.

"Rent?" He suggested with a laugh. Bulma huffed, tapping his shoulder lightly with the brush.

"Mutual benefit." She grinned. "Besides, it makes me feel a hell of a lot less helpless. Seriously. The amount of times I've been kidnapped, ditched in combat zones, or been perved on. It's infuriating. The worst was when I was left alone on an exploding planet..." She paused. Humming to herself in thought.

"Left- You were left completely alone. While Namek was in flames?" Vegeta turned to her fully now, eyes wide in shock. He'd thought they'd at least brought someone to guard her. "What were you even doing there if they were just going to leave you?"

She huffed. "At first, I was the only person who could fly the ship. But even then... We weren't expecting to walk into a warzone. We were told Namek was friendly and safe. And then we saw your pod." She laughed. "I think they wanted to keep me away from harm but it went so wrong." She nudged his shoulder. He huffed and turned back around. What carelessness! For any context. If they couldn't pilot their own damn ship, they should have at least kept her near it for evacuation. If she was just a bystander, she shouldn't have even been there, or at least been guarded by the child.

"All done!" She announced brightly. He sighed, wishing it had lasted just a little longer. Never the less, he stood and admired her work. It was the first time he'd looked so soft since he arrived on earth. He gave a short smirk and nodded to her.

"You've a lighter touch than Nappa I'll give you that, woman. I wish you luck with your latest creation. Might want to reinforce it's shell a bit. I wouldn't want to break it before testing the new features." with that, he waved, and left the room. Only later reflecting that she had not only offered such care, but did a hell of a job. More over, he started to think on her words. 'I got impatient.' Perhaps... Perhaps that was why he wasn't ascending. He was looking at the goal, and not what he'd currently gained. Today he'd focus on his current improvements. Take two weeks to reflect and study his faults. Perhaps he was missing some element.

He grinned. Much had been gained in just a grooming session. Perspective, and motivation to continue. For once, he wasn't alone in his personal goals. He wasn't just being cheered on, he was being given unlimited resources to try. He couldn't afford to fail now.


	7. His playful side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should note, this thing is all over the time line. mostly taking place in the infamous three years, but this is post that. Another mini bit like the first chapter. But it couldn't wait.

Damn it was cold. Bulma never really complained when Vegeta opened the window at night. He liked the fresh breeze, but would often get chilled. It made for the best cuddles. But tonight, tonight he was almost half her arms' length away from her. And she was COLD. "Fucking. Monkey. Son of a-" She crawled closer to him, he moved away. There was no way in hell he was too hot. Vegeta often complained that he was from a desert planet and Earth, if anything, was damn near arctic in comparison. She moved closer again, he shuffled away.

With a huff, she made one more effort to hold him in her shivering state. The bed fell out from underneath her, and in final flail of desperation, she landed on the floor. Glaring up the Saiyan floating above her, who was currently trying to stifle laughter."Is something wrong Bulma?" He snickered.

"NOT. FUNNY." He had a playful side. And he only really showed it with her. At the worst possible times. But, as always, he scooped her back into his arms, and pulled her back into bed. Nuzzling into her hair in apology. It was never to be taken seriously. And she had her own little pranks she'd pull. He still had no clue that persistent whine he'd hear in the GR was just a recorded mosquito over the intercom. She rolled about halfway and nudged him back. "I was trying to sleep." She whined.

"I know."

"It's because I called you a monkey. Isn't it?" She huffed.

"Yes."

"Sorry, I won't do it again."

"Then neither will I. At least. not off the bed." He snickered. She swatted his shoulder before dozing off again. At least he wasn't sneaking up on her any more.


	8. Movie night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine action movies would actually be very boring for Vegeta. I should also mention that it was confirmed that without any really training to spot it, the untrained human eye isn't able to keep up with the battles we see in the anime.

Bulma sighed, dragging her hand down her face. "For the love of- Yamcha, you can literally pick up a bus. Why do you get so exited over some dumb action flick?" She groaned. Her parents were out for the evening, and Yamcha insisted on being there to protect her from Vegeta. She could appreciate the sentiment, she really could. He had been killed by the guy after all. Heck she'd even think it sweet. If it weren't for the fact that if Vegeta really did go on the warpath, her parents were about as useful as wet tissue paper in a thunderstorm. She'd had plans for the evening, to finish the blueprints for that new submarine she'd been working on. But he insisted.

She felt like she needed to humor him. After all, passing over to the afterlife had to have some adverse affects on a persons mental well being. If he was that nervous about her well being, she could be a big girl and set time aside to assure him she's safe. So there they were, curled up in the early hours of the evening, choosing a movie. Yamcha huffed. "I guess you wouldn't understand it B. It's kind of like how you enjoy chick flicks."

"I **don't** enjoy chickflicks. Put any of those situations in real life and the romantic aspects are actually really creepy." She shuddered. The door softly shut, putting her slightly on edge. Yamcha hadn't seen Vegeta since he arrived back on earth from his Goku hunt. So things were a little tense in the few moments between the Saiyan returning from a night training, and him passing the living room. For now, Yamcha didn't seam to notice. He simply continued on as normal. Though she was a little surprised he hadn't sensed Vegeta. Then there was an audible rustling in the kitchen. Then finally.

"Woman, I can't find any more of those water bottles. Are they out?" Yamcha glanced up from his animated explanation about his new movie. Other than that, he seamed less than concerned. Bulma gave him a wary glance before responding.

"Yeah I think we are. I'll pick some more up tomorrow. If you need it check in my lab. There's some vitamin waters there." She called back. Much to her surprise, Yamcha spoke up.

"Hey Vegeta, you're a guy! You'll get this. Action movies are like a guy's chick flick right?" Vegeta had just been passing the living room when he said this, and an eyebrow slowly rose. Bulma could just see the gears working in his mind, turning the sentence around a few times, the coming up with a reply.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He huffed. Turning to fully enter the living room. But stopping at a respectful distance, and avoiding direct eye contact. She couldn't help but sigh in relief at this. No brawls were going to bust out in her living room. Yamcha on the other hand, shot up, waving his hands animatedly and trying to hold Vegeta's eyes to make his point.

"Oh come on man! You act like you've never seen an action movie!" He grinned. Vegeta's eyes followed his hands, but neither man were showing aggressive body language. Though, it was a little hard to tell with the Saiyan some times.

Eventually he simply stated. "I haven't." Leading into probably the most extreme reaction anyone had given the Saiyan since his arrival. Yamcha's hand snapped out to drag Vegeta over to the sofa. Unfortunately for him, the Saiyan was faster, and years of conditioning brought out the worst in him. A blow faster than Bulma could even register shot out, there was an exchange she was sure, as the two men suddenly switched positions, before they separated to opposite ends of the room. By her account, that was enough.

"ALRIGHT BOYS!" They both only tilted their heads to acknowledge her. "Yamcha, he's an alien. Things don't always translate. No direct eye contact, don't go grabbing. Vegeta, he wasn't trying to pick a fight. I WOULD HOPE AT LEAST. Now. If you still want to fight, Take. It. out. SIDE." She screeched.

Yamcha turned to awkward shuffling, Vegeta scoffed and closed in on himself. Bulma couldn't be bothered, she expected Yamcha to pick a fight earlier if she'd been honest, but to actually PICK a fight, not accidentally cause one. "Okay guys. Why don't we settle down and just... Yamcha, put your movie on. Vegeta, sorry you got dragged into our debate." Both men returned to their respective posts, Vegeta was just about to leave when Yamcha called out.

"Hey, look. If you want... You could join us for movie night." He folded his arms, moving between the Saiyan and Bulma. "We're watching two. One we each picked. But... You could pick one if you want. We'll do three." He huffed at last.

Bulma was sure he'd be turned down. Instead, she could see Vegeta's hip shift. A sign he was thinking it over. She'd never pointed it out, but she was pretty sure it had to do with his former tail. Goku's tail used to wiggle and curl when he was curious or contemplating about something, depending on how exited he was about it. With that kid's energy, she swore he'd turn the damn thing into a propeller from thinking too hard. Shocking both of them, the man nodded once. "I've only briefly glimpsed human entertainment. Movies? I need to shower first."

Yamcha looked taken aback, but nodded. "Uh. Alright man. Just... I guess choose a title that seams interesting when it's your turn?" He received a nod, and like an enigma, Vegeta was gone. "Weird... How do you live with him B?"

"He's not so bad actually. A bit bitchy from time to time. But actually a decent house guest." She sat back reflecting on Vegeta's stay so far. He'd show up yelling about his training, but she never actually felt intimidated by him. The last time she was actually afraid of him, had been Namek. And he was actually more terrifying when he wasn't shouting. Yamcha just made a small sound of surprise. Before getting up. He suggested something about needing popcorn and that decided it.

They waited, building up a small hoard of snacks to munch on while the movies played. When Vegeta returned to the living room, he found a pile of sweets and popcorn piled up on the coffee table. Some he was familiar with. Some he'd never even touched. Bulma smiled and waved him over to a seat she'd set up. Away from the couple at a respectful distance, but close enough to send home he was part of the activity. Thus, he dropped into the plush surface and wondered why the hell humans didn't make their beds out of this material.

"Okay so first up, we have Cold City 3: The revenge!" Yamcha picked up the remote and slumped next to Bulma, throwing a casual arm over her shoulder. Only to be vehemently shoved aside. She was still angry with him for the living room fight. It probably wasn't fair, but what did that matter when he almost got himself killed again? She curled up on her own side of the couch and huffed. As the movie played, she could see Vegeta eye it curiously, but eventually he turned more toward snacks. Yamcha was just about cheering during every action scene. The saiyan, however, was less impressed.

Eventually a car exploded into scrap and Vegeta finally spoke up. "Do earth vehicles often do that?" He furrowed his brow.

Bulma shook her head. "No but it's kind of a staple of action movies. The car has to blow up because gas is flammable, apparently. But it more just just burns when they catch fire." She sighed.

"Pity. You could have cornered a market there. Vehicles that don't explode at the slightest impact." He smirked before returning his attentions to the film. Sadly, he didn't know the chain reaction he caused in Bulma's mind. It fired vehicle designs at her in brilliant flashes of mental lightning. Finally she had to pull a worn notebook from her pocket, catching Yamcha's attention.

"Really B? You can't take you mind off work for even a minute?" He huffed.

She waved her mechanical pencil dangerously at him. "Hey, you don't have to come up with new shit to roll out every year for a living. I do. Just lemme write down the concept then I'm done, okay?" She scratched furiously into her book before setting it down. Sticking her tongue out at the ex-bandit. He rolled his eyes and returned to his film.

By the time the movie ended, Yamcha had turned his attention to Vegeta, a grin on his face. "So it was good right? Kind of like a nice escape?"

Vegeta leaned back and grimaced. "I suppose it is better than live plays. I can see the appeal of such a medium. However, there were so many parts of the story that did not make sense to me." He sighed.

"Like?" Yamcha prompted.

The saiyan took time to think before he began. "If any of my squad had shown me such blatant disobedience as officer Tam had, I'd have personally hauled them out for disciplinary action. More over the orders were to do minimal harm. How many buildings did he destroy in his reckless attempts? All to save one woman who isn't even his apparent mate? How many innocents did he accidentally kill?"

Yamcha sat there dumbfounded before Vegeta continued. "But you said this was the third installment. Perhaps I am missing context." He threw his hands up finally. With that, they had a short moment to talk about the movies, Vegeta took a small interest in Bulma's over worn notebook before returning to listening to her point.

"I still wonder what you get out of these. Hell, you've taken on a giant ape like it was nothing." She sighed.

Vegeta furrowed his brow. "No. He was dead before I ever turned Oozaru."

"Oh... I was talking about Goku." Both humans shifted uncomfortably. Realizing Vegeta was out of the loop on this one. For Vegeta's part, it was an interesting revelation.

"You faced down an out of control Oozaru. And you both survived? Or did Kakarot have some sense of himself?" He tilted his head inquisitively.

Bulma shook her head, fidgeting with her thumbs. "He didn't. But he always seamed more focused on buildings than people. All but... His caretaker. Gohan."

"His child is his caretaker?"

"No... The kid's named after the guy. I don't know about you people. But when humans remember someone fondly, we name our kids after them." Yamcha interjected. Though it didn't seam to be a happy topic. Vegeta started to think back on their battle. Kakarot had muttered something after he'd transformed. Something about a "Grandpa" He grimaced. It wasn't uncommon for a child in Oozaru to harm someone they didn't mean to. Hell, he remembered when Raditz went after him during their childhood.

"Why don't we move on? I believe it is the woman's turn to choose a movie." He suggested. The two quickly agreed.

The second movie was one of Bulma's favorites. About the hell one woman goes through to make it to a dear friends wedding. It was about half way through the film when she even thought to check on Vegeta's reaction. She gave him a half glance and took in everything she could in that time. Not wanting to provoke him, or incite a challenge. The Saiyan was invested, to say the least. His eyes wide and lips pressed firmly in an anxious twist. At some point he criticized the male lead for preventing the main character from her end goal.

In the end Yamcha had grown bored, but Vegeta was enraptured by the concept. Once the credits rolled, the human sat up. "So. What's your opinion on this one?" He glanced at the Saiyan and found Vegeta shifting.

"I may not have understood the significance of the ceremony, but it was clear the woman was integral to it. I didn't like the man who was constantly trying to distract her from her duties." He huffed. "Did he not know he was interfering with a royal event?"

Both Bulma and Yamcha paused. "Royal event?" Yamcha prompted.

"Was that not what the 'bride' was? A princess or queen?" Vegeta grumbled around a mouthful of popcorn.

"No she was just..." Yamcha paused. "Do you not know what a wedding is?"

"No."

Bulma interjected. "Basically when humans choose to be mates, we have a ceremony to celebrate it. Inviting the friends and families of both the man and the woman to witness the decision. The rings symbolize that they're together for good. And then there's a feast to cap it all off." She explained. 

Vegeta's eyes lit up. A small noise escaped him. "Then it would make perfect sense the woman's closest friend should be by her side." He paused. Leaning back to think about it.

"Well. It's your turn to pick Vegeta. What looks interesting to you?" Bulma scrolled through a list of films. Suddenly he seamed a bit shy. Choosing a movie with a smiling man on it, after reading the title. His choice was an outright comedy. About halfway through, Vegeta burst in laughter. Startling Yamcha off the sofa. All three sat in still silence, before the Saiyan cracked again followed by Bulma, and eventually Yamcha. At last, the snacks were gone. And the credits were rolling.

Vegeta had bid them goodnight a while ago, and Yamcha sat in the door way with Bulma seeing him out. "He's... Not what I expected. I didn't think the little twerp could even laugh at something so... inane."

"I told you he's not so bad. Just give him his space and it's usually pretty chill. Usually." Bulma shrugged. "The way he puts it. It'd be... Rude to invade a friendly house?"

"I did not expect him to like a romcom." Yamcha sighed.

"To be fair. I thought he'd be bored too. Though I might just get him to pick the next movie we watch. I'm saving that one for another night. It was good." Even Yamcha couldn't help but burst into laughter. They bid one another goodbye. Oblivious to the Saiyan laying awake in his bed above them.

He was fairly sure if his people hadn't been wiped out. Weddings would have been an honored ceremony. A public declaration that "this person is mine as I am theirs" seamed appropriate. He wondered if he would ever have the chance to attend one in person. Those thoughts were stamped out. He still had to ascend, defeat the androids and Kakarot, then he could think about wether or not he'd live on earth. If he did... Well those were thoughts for another time. He still had a few years to focus on the current goal.


	9. The nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey. Two in one day. The inspiration just hit and I had to get this down.

Fire. All she saw was fire and destruction. Death and decay. Bulma shook her head, wishing it hadn't happen. Two faceless monsters kept killing. The continued and continued until she couldn't handle it any longer. Her friends, her family, everyone she ever met was gone. Crushed under the heal of these horrible things. And she couldn't stop it. She couldn't even hinder it. She was useless, helpless, and just a toy to be mocked. It was worse than anything she faced before. It was terrible. She let them down, and the world was burning because of it.

Vegeta felt a sharp spike in the woman's ki. Even from his rigorous training in the GR. He shut the machine down and left his work behind. If that human died, he'd have no one to contest him. No further upgrades. Maybe even no shelter. He NEEDED her alive. With fast steps, he made his way to her lab. She was passed out at her desk, twitching, moaning and fidgeting. Even through her perfume, she stank of fear. At first, he attempted to run his tail gently over her had. Only to be reminded it was no longer there. How did you wake someone from a nightmare without something as soft as a tail? It was never good to shake or startle them. "The cat!" He hissed. Shortly after stalking down the little black creature.

Bulma woke to something licking her hand, and soft purring. There was also the scent of coffee in the air. It clashed so hard with her dreams, it woke her fully. "Wha-"

"I'm not sure how you humans wake someone without a tail. I improvised." He waited proudly for the woman to ask for further information. To try and dissect his culture and share some of her own. It was one of the few things that felt normal to him on earth. And would show him she was in a better mental state. Instead, she quietly thanked him, and brought the cat to her chest for comfort. The coffee was almost gone in two gulps. As though she was desperate not to fall asleep again. "That bad?"

"Yeah. What... What are you doing here?" She mumbled, wiping her eyes. The poor woman was close to tears. Vegeta grimaced. He was no stranger to nightmares. But only rarely did they leave him so rattled into waking.

"You ki spiked. Badly. With your parents away, I thought you were in danger." He huffed. Honesty was a complete necessity here. He wasn't the best at comforting people though. Perhaps it would be better for her to call her courting male.

Bulma laughed softly. "And you had to find me in a nightmare. Then wake me with... a cat? Why didn't you just shake me?"

Finally her inquisitive mind was returning. He let out a breath he had no idea he'd been holding. "You never startle a Saiyan out of sleep. It's a good way to get punched. It's also disrespectful." He shrugged.

Bulma laughed. Nodding her head. "That sometimes happens with humans too. I think I like the cat and coffee method better. But... You said something about your tail?"

He nodded. Leaning on her desk. "It's more effective to simply brush your tail over exposed skin. It puts your scent in the air near them, and is soft enough not to register as a threat. Believe me. The second part matters."

"Huh. I'll bring a paintbrush next time I need to wake you then." He laughed briefly. Nodding his head. Before taking in her still far off expression. There wasn't really much he could do further. And so, he bid her farewell and returned to his work in the gravity chamber.

Bulma, on the other hand, sat and stewed. How many people would die because of these monsters? How could she just sit back and do nothing? Asside from pushing Vegeta to his limits, which she wasn't comfortable with using him like that. She had little else on her mind. Until her father's cat conveniently knocked down an old photo of hers. She sighed, picking it back up, before looking at her own smiling face. She held up a case of capsules, and the dragon radar. The days before she knew about Saiyans and future killers and could just go on an adventure.

her eyes fell back onto the capsule case, before widening. "You genius fur ball you!" She scratched the cat between the ears, downed the last of her coffee, and started gathering paper for lists. She could do this between jobs. But how would she get these widely distributed? She'd have to think of that later.

It was a few weeks since the incident with the night mare. And Vegeta was just warming up. With a few light strikes, he shattered one training bot. Training stopped there. Features twisted in confusion. He called another bot, and tested it with even lighter strikes. It dented and shattered just as easily. Anger boiled in him. What was the meaning of this? Had he gotten stronger overnight? Or had these machines actually just fallen apart right before his eyes. They could normally take fifty times that. Speaking of fifty times. He checked the gravity settings. It was only ten over earth's normal force. He shut the gravity off, and attempted to break another bot. It heavily dented, but didn't shatter.

Gathering the machines he broke, Vegeta ordered the rest to follow him for maintenance. Something they never had to do before now. He'd bring them battered and broken before returning them offline. The programming worked, at least. They followed like a little train of ducklings as he stormed his way to her lab.

"Woman! Your bots are insuficiant- What the hell is this?" The room was absolutely strewn with capsules. Some full. Some not. Bulma was sitting in the middle trying to sort them out. Brows furrowed.

"It's a contingency plan. Now what's the issue with my bots?" She continued her work, sorting out a few cans of food and blankets. Before opening an already full capsule and ending up littering the floor with more supplies. "DAMMIT!"

Vegeta blinked in utter confusion. "They... Their shells are weaker than normal. They don't withstand damage at all." He waded his way through the mess, placing the broken bots on her work table, before hovering and joining her in the middle. "What is all this?"

"Camping supplies, emergency food stores. That kind of thing." Bulma sighed. Leaning back in her pile with a grumble. "I'll get to the bots once this mess is all sorted."

"Camping supplies. For a contingency plan. Do you believe I will fail to destroy the androids?" He scoffed.

Bulma sighed. Leaning her face in her hands. "No... Yes... I don't know. We're acting like we can change time it's self. But what if we can't? What if the events are fixed?" She glanced up at him.

"Then your efforts may well be in vain." He was nothing if not blunt. Bulma couldn't help but nod.

She let off a little sound of frustration. "Well. I can't just sit around and do nothing Vegeta. My hope is to have one of these emergency kits in at least every home in west city. If I could just figure out the marketing." She grumbled.

Vegeta was silent for a moment. Then sat with her, looking over the many labels and items. "I don't see any shelter here."

"It'll come with a capsule home. They have water and electricity. So it'll be like nothing bad happened." Her shoulders slumped. At least he understood. Yamcha kept brushing it off as 'not going to happen because we had warning'. It drove her insane. But Vegeta seamed to take her concerns seriously.

"Bad idea." He deadpanned. "When I purged planets, I always watched for intact homes. Or signs of activity. You'd be much better off giving them some kind of shelter they can easily dismantle or cover. Something light. These capsules make a distinct noise and cloud that would get you spotted in an instant." He huffed.

Bulma thought it through. "So limit capsule use as much as possible? That would cut back more than double the food and water I could leave for them though."

"Not necessarily. Sell them separately in the same package. One containing living equipment. Another containing supplies. I see plenty of canned foods. Do you have any way to open them in any of these?" He glanced around. Bulma swore loudly.

They'd spent the afternoon talking about supplies and experiences they'd learned from. Vegeta turned out to have plenty of practical advice. Then they got down to weapons.

"It won't matter against the androids woman. There's no point to it." He insisted.

"There IS a point to it Saiyan. Look. If this goes on for too long, No matter how much I pack, the food will run out. At that point they'll need to hunt for it. It's not like the average human can generate a ki blast." She snapped back. Things had become far more organized. Bulma had ordered plenty of tents and good canvas backpacks to shove them and other supplies in.

"Tch. Ki blasts would be to risky as well. They make a light you could spot for miles. And your earth weapons are noisy! They'll be heard for miles!" He countered.

"Okay granted that's a problem. But most people don't know how to shoot a bow, or make a decent trap- Oh! I should leave some survival booklets. -anyway! Unless you have some brilliant suggestion, this is the best I've got." She spat.

Vegeta puffed up. "You are one of the most brilliant minds on this mud ball. **Make something.** Something even Kakarot can pick up and work without effort." He spat right back.

Bulma stopped. Her brain started working at mach 5. She sat down on the floor and reached for her note book. "You're right. It could be simple, and quiet. Just a couple springs and something sharp."

"Be sure it's durable and retrievable." He offered.

"Yeah! Like some kind of mini crossbow with a rope attached to the dart!" she stopped mid writing. "Thanks. For this."

Vegeta just nodded. Staring at the items they'd gathered. The plans they'd written down. "If I had known what was going to happen to my people, I'd have done similar." He slumped just slightly.

"Now, about the bots." The two shared a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This has been a headcannon of mine for a while now. Given how Bulma was acting even way back in Dragon Ball. I don't think she was doing nothing but running her company and fixing bots while those 3 years were going.  
> That's not Bulma. She thinks ahead, and packs things she might need. Back in DB this took the form of vehicles, weapons, and shelter, in addition to food and water. Yes, her equipment got lost. But she initially had it. What would she have packed had she known the androids were coming?


	10. The echoes of a betrayal.

Yamcha had been around a bit more. After the movie night. He didn't often take the time to ask about culture or behavior, and often wore colognes that were far too strong for saiyan senses. Which made the most recent visit stand out more. Vegeta had been rummaging through the fridge when he caught a wiff of an overly floral scent. It wasn't any of the perfumes Bulma or her mother wore. Perhaps they were trying a new scent. He grimaced. Whatever it was, it mixed poorly with someone else's perfume. Faintly hidden in the background. That was more Yamcha. So he could deduce the wearer.

"You applied that too heavily. Did you raid your mother's collection or something?" He mocked. Head still in the fridge. He found that he could get away with lightly teasing the woman. Here and there. Instead, a male throat cleared.

"Um... Sorry?" Yamcha's voice cracked. Vegeta poked his head up and raised an eyebrow.

"You wreak of women's perfume. I assumed you were the woman." He returned to his foraging. "Apologies."

Yamcha sputtered in surprise. His throat tightened a bit before he forced out an answer. "Okay. Don't tell Bulma. I'm... I'm buying her a birthday present. I had some lady attack me with a sample at the mall. Is it really that bad?" He winced.

Vegeta retrieved the last of his spoils and started to heat what needed to be heated. "Yes." Birthday. That was an odd concept. He was aware of the day he was 'born' though incubation pods made everything accurate. But the birth of a child wasn't exactly something unusual. They just come out of the incubator screaming and hungry. It meant very little to anyone other than the parent. However, humans seamed to celebrate it in full. Cheering another year of life lived. The way Bulma described it, there was a time not everyone made it to their next birthday. And with certain illnesses that still persisted, some still don't.

He subconsciously made a small symbol of respect for that. Illness was a tragedy. Even to Saiyans. There was reason to celebrate if that were the case. Another healthy year, and wishing them further good health for the year. He supposed that could be a nice tradition. Personally he'd pour one out for those that didn't make it.

"If you think she'll wear that shit you should re-evaluate your decision." He glanced over his shoulder. "Look at the scents she already chooses and make a decision based on that." It's what he'd have done. And though Bulma's relationship was non of his business, he understood that 'guy talk' was a social requirement on earth. And trying to relate over purging planets or sparring on space stations didn't really seam like something Yamcha could relate to. 

That was only one event. And on the woman's birthday, Yamcha gave her that terrible perfume anyway. Vegeta wasn't too bothered. It was his courtship. Perhaps outside advice was taboo. It seamed sound at the time, but he might have over stepped something. Or the woman had tastes he didn't expect. Though she never wore it. Hell she even looked a little disappointed. Yet Yamcha seamed drenched in it every other night. Perhaps he grew to like the scent. There were other things. He'd be late for events, or never showed up. Something about a practice. It obviously wasn't anything to do with combat. His skills were abysmal at best. In comparison at least, to where it should have been given upcoming events. He had improved since their fist meeting.

However, every time he saw Bulma, Yamcha would shower her with gifts and affections. Something obscene in Saiyan society. He may as well have loudly propositioned her. However, these items and attentions were always hesitantly taken or appreciated. Vegeta wasn't too certain why this annoyed him so much. It seamed as though Yamcha wasn't paying attention to her wants or needs. No matter how often she expressed them.

Then he caught snippets of a phone conversation while returning from his daily training. Stopping to hear Bulma yell into the phone about a date. Yamcha missing it. Game. He shook his head and continued on. Until Bulma flagged him down later that night, before dinner. "Vegeta... If a Saiyan agreed to meet with someone, then had their job overtake those plans... No. I don't think this is relevant. Sorry."

"It depends on the job and significance of the plan. A purge would overtake any prior obligations. But, for example, if there were a ceremony or important event you were to attend you wouldn't accept any work on that date. You keep your promises. Otherwise no one will rely on you, and you'll have no one to rely on. Does it not work that way for humans?"

"Apparently not. Don't worry about it Vegeta." She sighed, walking off to her room. It bothered him slightly. Did Yamcha break an agreement for his work? He shook his head and returned to his training. That night Yamcha had showed up in a grand gesture, with more gifts and flattery. However, the scents he carried were a mixture of perfumes. He'd tried to wash them off, clearly. But the heavy chemicals clung to him like stubborn oils. It almost reminded him of couplings back on his own planet. There was almost a scent war when it came to spending time together. Saiyans would wash off the scents of bedmates unless it was through courting. Wearing the smell of a close companion without washing it off was considered honoring them. Or a lack of places to wash off.

Vegeta was reminded of Gohans jab at Nappa. Being so covered in the stench of alien bugs. He stifled a remaining cackle. The lad didn't know it, but he had a very saiyan attitude towards certain things. It was amusing when it surfaced. He was going to grow into a fine man if he continued on that path. The one thing Kakarot did right, really. And oh, Nappa's face. He didn't realize just how much he needed that laugh. Pleasant memories chased him as Vegeta rested his head against his pillow. The next day, he was testing a new level of training he'd concocted with Bulma.

The regime was getting harder. The bots started calculating his patterns. This was far better than sparring against weakling soldiers or Saibamen. If Frieza had access to this technology, he wondered if the men he massacred on the ship would have had a better chance. Vegeta burst into laughter, ducking another blast. His foot arched in the air and connected with the metal shell, slamming the football sized machine against the wall of this training grounds. In a way, it was as though he was sparring with Bulma. The only difference was that he was battling her skill of mind, instead of body.

Any thoughts of the woman turned to future plans. After defeating the androids, Earth would owe him. They'd owe him big time. And he'd take that favor and make earth his home base. Yes. After the androids, he'd dismantle anything left of the Kold empire and take it for himself. And with the woman's skills by his side, it'd be an easy venture. With Earth's techniques, he'd be sure to win. His grin grew as he continued to force his body through rigorous torture. He'd go until it hurt, then continue until he'd drop. It was all he needed to do. He pushed and worked himself to the edge.

Then, it all went to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like the 'Yamcha cheated' thing. But it was apparently cannon. So I tried to base some of his behaviors off many of the stories I've heard about cheating Ex's.  
> As well. I've never seen Vegeta treat Gohan with any outright animosity. Even when he did wind the poor lad on Namek. Hell most of his time, he never went for a killing blow. Even when he really should have. Like the Oozaru transformation. The kid was prone! He could have gone for a fatal shot. Instead he chose to stop it through other means. Nor does he show Chichi any real hatred. His beef is with Kakarot. Not his family.   
> And yeah. The gravity room just exploded.


End file.
